Hello John
by Neurotic-Isopod
Summary: John finds himself in a place he knows he doesn't have a right to be, his boys are waiting for him but he can't help himself. He needs to see, needs to know even though he shouldn't.   -Some crude language- One-shot until I decide to continue it.


Supernatural

One-Shot

The damp cool air blew a chill through a rolled down 67' Impala, the driver sitting silently at the wheel in the dark, the still night air humming with insects around him. He shouldn't be there, he knew, he had no right to be, no right at all. Yet here he was, led by happenstance, by a thread of a lead he had followed which had led him back to a place he'd come to know over the course of time.

His business, or at least the only one that should concern him was over and the trail was getting colder and colder every second he waited. So why hadn't he left yet? He felt exhaustion in his soul, the fire that burned each and every day for revenge dwindling in the cool damp air of this place. He found himself on the side of the road, his boots squelching in the mud as he walked on the inside of a stone barrier which kept drivers from trailing onto the undefined dirt sidewalk of the trailer park. He could have driven baby to the small shoddy trailer but his girl's rumble might have disturbed the damp night air and he hadn't yet decided if he would go any further than the driveway.

The drive he stood in front of now. With the cement cracked and pale with age and the small front patch of green on the yard a soggy mix of moss and grass, the small strip of hardly defined garden space over grown with weeds and plain white daisies. Though he did note with a small hint of amusement that the grass wasn't overgrown for the first time he'd ever seen it. There were no lights inside and he felt a twinge of relief that the driveway was empty, only dried fluid stains from where the car once rested. It was settled for him then, she wasn't home. Yes there was relief, but also bitter disappointment.

The yellow of headlights blared against his back making his shadow long against the ground as a vehicle neared, his previous sentiments falling away as a car turned into the drive and parked the rumbling engine dying leaving his ears humming with silence and the sway of wind. The door groaned as it opened, a click of heels following it as the figure stood behind her open car door almost protectively, john seeing that there was something clenched in her left hand. He smiled a little as he realized what it was.

"Hey buddy is there a reason why you're standing in front of my house?" Her voice spoke with forceful bravado. He imagined to someone that _didn't_ know her it wouldn't sound like bravado at all, but he knew her to be softer than she acted.

"It's good to see you Diane." he spoke finally his eyes unable to make out the expression which twisted across her features in the dark. Instead he waited, maybe for a slap, or a snap of words.

"John?" She uttered, not tenderly, nor angrily, simply in surprise which passed quickly as her tone changed with the next words she spoke. "I thought you wouldn't be back... after last time." She spoke hesitantly and defensively a hint of demand in her words. _Why are you here?_ and yet she spoke them in such a way that wasn't sending him red lights warning him to leave. If he was to leave, it would be her choice.

"I was passing through." the decision hung between them, the pause pregnant before she spoke.

"Why don't you come in for a drink?" unseen in the darkness by her John smiled wearily.

"I'll be glad for it... it's good to see you again Diane." he said meaning it as much as he had the first time as she reached back into the car for her purse, slipping her homemade pepper spray back inside.

"So you said." she replied back, her heels clicking as she walked ahead of him, pushing open the cheap broken wooden gate on the deck to get to the front door. Shoving the key into the lock she wiggled it as dexterously as someone who'd done it many times before until there was an audible click. Twisting the handle she fumbled in the narrow entrance for the light switch. The light hummed as it came on, for a brief time stinging his eyes while it caused Diane's hair to glow strawberry in its light before it flickered and dying, leaving them in darkness once again.

"For fuck sakes." she cussed roughly, John waiting at the door hearing the clatter of her heels as she tossed them off, her head disappearing as she bent down the hall to yell. "Daphne!" Her voice barked out and there was a rustle heard, a groan of floor boards and the sound of fumbling. The light down the hall flashed on, John still in the partial darkness of the narrow entrance where the light couldn't reach around the corner. It illuminated the arch which Diane stood, her body still half twisted into the other hall, her feet bare. The light shone something of a halo around her head, causing her naturally blonde hair to glow with its strawberry undertones again. It flashed as she twisted her head to look at him, her face clear to him for the first time. Her skin was smooth and sun warmed, though how that was possible in this puddle of a town he wasn't sure. The green of her eyes glittered, though not in any way he'd seen them yet. Not mischievously, or angrily, actually for once she seemed almost peaceful.

Her brow cocked in familiar annoyance.

"You gonna just stand there or come in?" She snipped shaking her head and rolling her eyes at his slight smile and staring. "_Daphne!_" She belted again louder.

"Yeah?" He heard the groggy voice of a young woman. John stepped forward, turning to lock the door behind him in a mixture of habit and paranoia before filling the arch Diane previously inhabited. To his left was the kitchen and living room, and to his left the hall which led to the bathroom and bedrooms. The place had changed quite a bit since he'd last been there, there was fresh paint on the walls and the air was clean and fresh, without the hint of smoke. To his right he watched Diane speak to Daphne, who was obscured by Diane's figure as they spoke.

"How was everything tonight?"

"Good, good!" The girl yawned loudly clearly just have woken up. "Went to sleep a few hours ago." She mumbled still sounding sleepy.

"Good, uh," Diane moved her hand to her bra, pulling out some bills stashed there and thumbing through them. "Here, I'll give you the rest tomorrow."

"Okay, Night Miss Riley." Diane shifted to allow her to pass by her in the narrow confines of the hall, John moved as well so that the girl could comfortably pass him to the door. Diane disappeared and John stayed, not moving to follow heaviness in his chest. Instead he took off his boots and strode into the kitchen turning on the light there and took a seat in a kitchen chair. Wearily he remembered the last time he'd sat in her kitchen, the conversation they had there.

_"Do you need money to pay the doctor-"_

_ "I didn't call you here for that."_

_ "What the hell do you mean?"_

_ "Dammit John, I'm not- I mean I'm going to keep-_

The memory was cut short by Diane in the present, her legs bare up to her thigh where pyjama shorts began and a baggy sweater above that which she swimmed in and was clearly for comfort. John's gaze lingered on her legs as she passed, unable to help himself as he admired the smooth contours of them. He forced his eyes away though back to the table before she turned to gaze at him. He wasn't there for _that_.

"Whiskey or wine?" She asked, her blonde hair bundled into a loose pretty ponytail which hung down her back. John shot her a wry smile and she shook her own head smiling to herself. "Never mind, I don't know why I bothered to ask..." She chortled mostly to herself as she faced the cupboard, opening the door and reaching inside to retrieve a glass and the bottle. There was quiet between them for a moment, the only sound being the rush of pouring whiskey. Diane though wasn't a fan of silence and didn't let it stand long.

"So what brings you back? Is something going on in the town?" She questioned, the glass clunking as it was set on the table where she took a seat beside him, stretching her legs out. John shook his head, the glass cool to the touch even though the whisky was warm, just the way he liked it.

"A few towns over, a cursed object was making its way around." He answered, not really interested in talking about his job, though he wasn't sure what he wanted to talk about. Between them talking about monsters was probably the only subject that didn't lead to an argument.

"Huh." She sounded just as interested in talking about it as he was. Her eyes drifted to the table, laying her palm flat on the surface. "You didn't answer my first question... Why are you _here _John?" He picked up the glass of whiskey and downed it, cringing. She raised her eyes to him again, shifting to lean her head and elbow on the table. "Should I get you the whole bottle?" she questioned wryly. He probably _could _use the rest of the bottle but he didn't want it. His boys were waiting for him and one stiff drink was enough.

"I wanted to see how you were doing since the last time..." His words hung between them briefly.

"You mean you wanted to see how _we're_ doing don't you?" There was that tone, that spark. He was wondering when it would come into play. She never could keep much of her temper or mood in check, though he supposed he wasn't the model of calm and collected. When he didn't answer she grew agitated in her seat, her mood clearly turning for worse. "Well?"

"Dammit Diane, I don't know what the hell I'm doing here." Damn he was tired, so damned tired. He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his hand over them wishing he could relieve the ach there. Diane's mood relented seeing it and escaped her in a rough exhale. She pushed herself up from the table, her chair clattering against the linoleum as it was pushed back.

"Come here," She grabbed his wrist, her grasp firm and urging him to follow. He hesitated fractionally his brown eyes meeting her veiled green ones. "Come on." She murmured again and he relented, her hand gripping his wrist, soft and strong leading him down the hall. His stomach knotted as they drew near her bedroom door and he began thinking that he probably should have just accepted that bottle of whiskey. She opened it, revealing a softer glow to the room than the harsh bright light of the hall and his throat became dry as she dropped his wrist, and closed the harsh light of the hall out leaving them in the soft glow of the darkened room. When she walked over to the crib he stayed still, just as he had as he waited for her in the arch way, not daring to come closer. She bent over it reaching in briefly before straightening and looking at him.

"Don't just stand there." She growled, beckoning him to come closer. When he didn't her eyes softened. "John." She murmured gently. A breath escaped him as he moved, joining her side to stare down into the crib. Laid swaddled only four or five months old was a baby. It was Diane's baby, and it was his baby, though he doubted he'd ever have much to do with its life. Both he and Diane knew that, yet he had still been compelled. He had to see, had to know.

"He's..." John felt an age old thrill pass through him, almost an ache as it swelled memories from long ago which he battled vehemently. He focused on the little infant instead, its peach fuzz almost strawberry hair and delicate milky skin and a mouth twitched as it nursed in its dreams. "What... what did you name him?" his voice was husky and he broke his gaze from the child, determined not to let emotion swell for it. He probably shouldn't even have asked his name... Diane laughed and he looked at her, her head shaking as she answered.

"_She_, is Maxine Winchester Riley." John's surprise registered on his face, his brown eyes widening.

"A girl?" John actually almost laughed it seemed so strange, so peculiar.

John Eric Winchester had a daughter.

.

.

AN/ Let me know if you enjoyed this. I know another 'John has an illigitimate daughter thing'. I'm keeping this as a one-shot for now, but it wasn't innitially written as one, a story connected to this is in the works. This technically being its first chapter when my friend read it over for me she mentioned that the beginning made it seem like a one-shot. I've never actually intentionally written a One-shot before so I thought 'What the hell?' I never actually finish anything I'm writing anyways I might as well let people enjoy a little piece of what is probably never going to see the light of day.

.

Thanks for Reading!

.


End file.
